


and when you go, take this heart

by leetleblue



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Begging, Boys in Skirts, Dom/sub Undertones, Enbys in Skirts, F/M, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Skirts, Smut, Teasing, and probably some dom/sub overtones, of the sexual and non-sexual variety, pre-plague, though asra is not a boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 02:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20900471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetleblue/pseuds/leetleblue
Summary: Asra hasn’t been teasing her too long, he doesn’t think, but judging by how desperately Kira is holding on to him he’s butting right up against the limits of her patience. He moves his mouth from her lips to just beneath her jaw, the bite of her nails against his back so sweet in response.(Pre-Plague, Asra and the Apprentice pass a night together.)





	and when you go, take this heart

**Author's Note:**

> (I'll make no more use of it when there's no more you)
> 
> I'm a day behind on Fictober but as the Star is my witness, I'll get there. I'll get there. Fictober prompt: "I might just kiss you." Title from Happy by Mitski--which might be a little on-the-nose, considering this is the Arcana, but like. That's showbiz babey.  
Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.

Asra hasn’t been teasing her too long, he doesn’t think, but judging by how desperately Kira is holding on to him he’s butting _right _up against the limits of her patience. He moves his mouth from her lips to just beneath her jaw, the bite of her nails against his back so _sweet _in response.

"You want me to beg, is that it?” She asks, breathless, grinding down against the leg he’s got her straddling.

Asra huffs a laugh against her skin. She’s not_ wrong_, and he gives her breast a soft squeeze to reward her for her insight. Her nails dig just a little more into him, riding that line of pleasure/pain. Asra can tell she wants to give in immediately but she’s stubborn, his magician, and he delights in breaking down her willful tendencies. He sucks a bruise into the side of her neck and heals it away with a sigh of magic, and she _trembles_.

Kira is so warm against him, her arching back pressing her breasts more firmly against him. Asra pinches her nipple and lightly bites the side of her neck and she _whimpers, _“Please,” and Asra nods, shifts between her legs. He holds her face gently in both of his hands, kissing her sweetly, and Kira’s hand snakes between them to line him up with her, and Asra presses forward—

The chime above the shop door sounds, and Kira and Asra push themselves instantly apart and upright, eyes wide. “Just a minute!” Kira calls, automatic, a red blush blooming across her face. She reaches for the nearest article of clothing—Asra’s shirt from the previous day, probably, based on the color—but Asra flaps his hand at her.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” He grins, taking the shirt from her hands and pulling it quickly over his head. He takes a calming breath. “Just lay there and wait for me, this won’t take long. Where are my pants?”

“On the other side of the open door,” Kira laughs and points at a pile of fabric on the ground, discarded right before she climbed in bed with him. “Just wear my skirt and get whoever that is_ out_ of here.”

Asra snatches it off the ground, throws it on, and rushes down the stairs to greet their unexpected customer.

Its one of their neighbors, the middle-aged man who runs the bookshop down the street, and Asra finds he cannot begrudge the man his late-night intrusion. Erenfrund looks absolutely frantic, asking for something, _anything_, to ease his teenage daughter’s monthlies. Asra gives him a pouch of cramp bark and evening primrose, writing the dosage instructions down on a scrap of parchment and slipping it into the bag with the herbs, and accepts payment while Erenfrund runs his hands through his thinning hair and laments the timing of his husband’s trip away from Vesuvia for work.

“Mundie has always been better about this sort of thing,” Erenfrund says, pocketing the bag, “but I suppose I ought to learn before our youngest reaches that age. Thank you, Asra. Say hello to the missus for me?”

“Of course, and I hope Lorella feels better soon!” Asra waves Erenfrund off, leaning out into the street to check that he actually extinguished the lantern earlier. He had—Erenfrund was just _that_ desperate for aid. Then Asra locks the door, firmly, and rushes back up the stairs. “Alright,” he says, shutting the door to their room and locking it, for good measure, “now, where were we?”

“Ooh, Asra, look at _you_,” Kira grins, still lounging naked on the bed, one hand lazily cupping her breast. “This is a good look on you.”

“Is it?” Asra steps further into the room, catching sight of himself in their full-length mirror. Her dark blue skirt sits low on his slim hips, showing off an enticing but not _entirely _obscene swath of his skin where his shirt doesn’t quite meet the waistband. Asra turns a little in it, the fabric billowing out around his legs pleasantly, and he spins in a circle—partly for Kira, and partly for himself. The swish of the material is satisfying, and he grins at Kira’s whistle. “Maybe I’ll borrow this, someday.”

“Please do, anytime.” She crooks a finger at him, and Asra slowly approaches the bed, letting his hips sway a little more than usual. Kira catches the hem of his shirt and tugs on it, giving him a wide smile when he plants his hands on either side of her head, looming over her. “Gotta say, though, as a warning? If you wear this out, I might just have to kiss you.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want _that_.”

“Yeah, we really, really wouldn’t.” Kira’s hand slides up the front of Asra’s shirt, trailing lightly over his skin. “Hypothetically, though, what would you do if I _did?_”

Asra plants one knee on the bed and leans closer, letting more of his weight rest on the pile of pillows behind her. “Strictly hypothetically?” Asra teases.

She grabs his hip, bare hand hot against him as her fingers dip just under the waistband of the skirt. “Of course.” Kira moves her other hand down to brush over his leg, pulling lightly on the skirt until she’s rucked the fabric up over his knee. “Just to satisfy my curiosity, you understand.”

Asra shifts his weight to one hand and curls the other in her short red hair. “Naturally. You _are_ an incredibly curious person.” Her hand slips under his skirt and slides up, up, up. Asra smirks. “And an incredibly_ impatient_ one.”

Kira just smiles, a clear challenge in her eyes, and takes him in hand. She strokes his cock slowly, watching Asra’s face, her small hand sure around him. She knows his body so well, the exact way to touch and tease and twist her wrist at the exact right time and _oh_, Asra thinks, _oh fuck_.

Asra glances down, watching the fabric of the skirt move with her hand, and swallows. “I think I remember where we were, now,” Asra breathes.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what you’d do if I kissed you?” Kira laughs.

“I’d rather show you.” Asra leans back to shed his shirt and _gasps _with the material halfway over his head, Kira’s mouth suddenly hot and wet and perfect around him. He throws off the shirt, groaning, and pushes Kira’s shoulders back until she’s smiling mischievously up at him again. Asra kisses her properly, dragging his teeth against her bottom lip, and fills the space between her splayed-out legs. Kira hitches the front of the skirt up, out of the way, and Asra presses her back against the pillows, feeling her grin against his lips.

They pick back up where they left off.


End file.
